Standing In The Rain
by Enkei Reiton
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki has finally snapped after his journey to hell. Now, a shell of his former self, a murderer and heartless machine,  will he die the death of a sinner, or redeem himself, and save everything precious to him... Prequel to 'The Tale Of...'


**A/N: Okay, this is another story that I'm starting... It picks up after the latest movie, Bleach: Hell Verse. No I have not watched the movie, but my Japanese is not that bad, so I do know what the basic storyline is. This story however, will be mainly AU, as it does change some elements of the movie, for story purposes... After all, this is fanfiction... Regardless, this story begins at the end of the fourth movie, and continues till the end, (my imagined ending), of the series. If you aren't aware, this is the prequel to 'The Tale Of...' instead of 'Bonds', although I will continue, that story as well... Most likely, I will update all of my stories, except for 'Open You Eyes' tomorrow...

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**Standing In The Rain **

**Prologue: **_**'A Prelude To The Apocalypse'**_

Two men stood in a clearing oblivious to the rain that beat down hard upon the already cracked and weathered ground. One was old it was clear to tell, and the other a young man no more than twenty years of age. Both were facing a modest tombstone. It, like the ground before it had been around for quite some time, and if not as long as the ground, long enough to have a fair share of scratches.

Neither of the men spoke, but when the older man chose to break the uncomfortable silence, his comment, both knew, while not referring directly to the tombstone, did imply something of it.

"She's not dead you know..."

The questioned man nodded slightly, his bangs in doing so, framing his handsome face. His orange hair was strange, but somehow, it seemed to work for him. Even with his ridiculously coloured hair, anything he wore or did only served to reinforce the fact that he was superior. The rain, while it made most look ugly, only accentuated his well-toned body, illuminated his piercing amber eyes.

Today however, his eyes seemed to have lost their glint, and were becoming more and more lifeless by the minute. It was interesting because he, with every fibre of his being was not dying. Perhaps he had received a few scratches, but to say that his life was in the balance would have been a serious overstatement. He was fine, and even if he hadn't been, would have insisted and if it came to it, protested that he was. That was him, and everyone was fine with that.

But he was off today. Something about him seemed strange today, and not only the lack of luster in his mood. It was understandable however, his sister had died today... Most people would have reacted much worse, but he didn't, and maybe it seemed like he should have reacted differently. The truth was though, he simply didn't have it in him at the moment.

He was tired and that was that. Highly unusual of him to be tired considering his brash personality, but most certainly not an impossibility. There was that, but it was something else. If you knew him well enough, to see past his mask, you could tell that there was definitely something else. Although he would never admit it, he felt defeated, and that was another story entirely.

It wasn't like he hadn't felt this way before... Hell, he had felt like this a lot of times before. The feeling of being stuck had plagued him time and time again, and each time he had managed to shake it off, to move forward. Only this time, he had a feeling, that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be able to move on like he had before. Even though his sister was alive, he'd nodded at his father for that comment, there was more to this then there ever had been.

Finally, the pressure was getting to him, eating at him from the insides like a inextinguishable flame. He was hurting, and nothing could comfort him, not his father, not the thought that his sister was alive, nor the thought that he had defeated the enemy, even if temporarily. There was still too much he didn't know, and now that his powers had returned, things were moving much too fast. Everything about his past, his present, and his future was being revealed.

For a teenage boy, one who carried the world on his shoulders it was too much to bear. Still, he knew he had to carry on, had to continue for the sake of everyone depending on him, because, he truly was the man of the world. So, no matter how much pain that he felt, he had to keep going, he had no choice.

"That's not the point."

He wasn't really surprised at how hollow his voice sounded. Nothing less was expected from him. Today really had been a long day, and the older man silently agreed as no remark on his tone followed his dull vocalization of his thoughts. He was glad that his father didn't comment on his voice, he already knew that it sounded off.

Off, like most things about him today. Then again, in his defence, his sister had died, well, almost died, and almost his entire past, had been revealed to him no less then a week ago. All of his pent up emotions were starting to get the better of him, and were severely affecting his psychological being. No better was it that he was partially responsible for the near death experience of his sister.

She wouldn't blame him, he was sure. In the end, he had brought her back and defeated the man who imprisoned her. Yet he couldn't shake the thought that in a way everything up till now was his fault. And although predicting the future was not on his list of things to do, he had a feeling that things weren't going to get quiet for a while now.

Not that the thought bothered him, his life never had been quiet, but if his friends were going to be targeted, in an attempt to get to him... That was what really bothered him. He desperately needed to protect them. They were everything to him, and he had to keep them safe at all costs. And with this thought in mind, a memory sparked in his mind.

'No matter what, even if I have to become your enemy, I will protect you, I swear it in front of my mother's grave...'

The words were spoken a long time ago he recalled. It was when his friends had been endangered by some other entity. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten to the point of his betrayal. But now, he knew what he needed to do... It may crush his friends, and his family, but he had to do it... He had to betray them all...

"What do you mean by that, you saved her!"

His father's exclamation snapped him out of his reverie. Not a problem though, he knew what he needed to do. Torture his father he would, while all of his friends were listening, with the hope that it would sever their bonds. "I mean, it wouldn't have made a difference if I had saved her or not..."

"What do you mean! It made all the difference... She's ALIVE because of you... If you hadn't saved her, she'd still be DEAD!" His father was furious, he could tell because he wasn't yelling. He was seething and hissing, all in a monotonous voice. Regardless of his feelings he continued, "But, what would it matter if my choice was still the same... Does it matter if my sister is alive... Because of a mistake..."

HIs father's jaw locked instinctively, and he wished it would stop, wished that he would stop. But there was no end to the reasoning spewing out of his mouth. "I made a mistake, I should have let her die... Killing her was an accident, but so was bringing her back... If I had left her for dead, then my task now would be so much simpler."

"A-are you telling me that you should have let your sister die?" his father choked. He nodded again though it wasn't true. It was the farthest from the truth. Killing his own sister, no matter what he would never stoop so low. But for whatever reason, he kept going, he let his hate take over him briefly, and allowed himself to be controlled by his emotions. Then, he struck his father with his sword.

He thought that it was acceptable... but killing a family member, whether it be father or sister, was the greatest sin anyone could commit. 'It's for their own good...' he told himself, but there was nobody left to convince but himself. There was no point to his thoughts or musings, what was done was done, and he was not one to finish things halfway so he forced himself to continue though it hurt with every fibre of his being.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying. I don't know why I saved her and all my pathetic friends... I guess it was just instinct or something... Whatever, I won't be doing it again," a malicious grin made its way on to his face, "Not that you'd be around to see anyway!" And with that, his sword was plunged deeper into his father's gut. The rain mixed with his bitter tears, and somewhere in his mind it registered that it was the first time he cried since his mother had died. He had a feeling it would be a long time until he was allowed to cry again.

He was vaguely aware of his father's pleas; his father's last rasp, "Don't dishonour your mother... At the very least her memory..."

And then, after a while in reply, "Her memory will fade away soon enough..." He shunpoed away.

Then he felt nothing but the rain for a while... In the distance there were hurried footsteps, and then worried mutterings, and then nothing again. Somehow, he made his way back to the tombstone, his father's body gone, his resolve dissipated. He heaved a sigh, and finally whispered an unheard 'sorry', and then... He was dead, he knew that for sure. But what did it matter, it was all to protect his friends... He chuckled a bit, he wasn't doing this for his friends, he was doing it for himself... And strangely enough that was okay.

He father was gone, and he was dead... His father would live on in everyone's hearts, and he would go on to become a shell of his former self. It was okay in his mind, and in that instant he ceased to be himself. He was nobody... There was nothing but his mother's memory that would serve to remind him of his former self, not his sisters, nor his friends. For they would soon cease to exist as well, he promised himself...

It was still raining. He glanced at his mother's grave one last time and then left. Where he stood, there was nothing but a small charm bestowed unto him by his father. The rain beat down hard in the clearing where nobody stood.

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**A/N: Nothing much to say really, except for read and review please... **

_**~WindSurfer**_


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